“You lied to my face. Every single night.”
“I didn’t want to hurt you,” he said again, more helpless now than defensive.
“Then you should’ve trusted me,” I said, my voice breaking. “You should’ve told me from the start.”
He stepped closer.
“I didn’t want you to think I was keeping this from you because I didn’t love you. I do. You’re my wife, Anna.
You’re my everything. I don’t want to lose you.”
I took a deep breath, the kind that hurts going in. “You almost did,” I said.
“But I’m still here. So now, you have to decide if you’re ready to live with honesty—or live alone with your guilt.”
He nodded, silent tears running down his face. “I’ll tell you everything,” he said.
“No more secrets.”
I sat down in the desk chair he had abandoned and looked at the screen again. The email thread showed messages between him and Laura. She was asking about Caleb’s braces, about help with new school clothes.
The tone was consistently respectful, even thankful. It was not flirty or nostalgic. Just…
practical.
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